


I Really Do Like You

by aliveinvividity



Series: Darus Week (2016) [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I love dramatic Paul sorry, M/M, Misunderstandings, Paul is very dramatic, Rick is clueless, as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8217682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveinvividity/pseuds/aliveinvividity
Summary: Paul's never really been one for patience.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for day three of darusweek2016
> 
> enjoy <33
> 
> tumblr: that-flawless-boi

Paul’s never really been one for patience. Yes, there are certain things he _can_ be patient for- like when it comes to hiding from enemies or waiting for some more supplies to come along. 

But this? He honestly doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. He and Daryl have been in a relationship for months. Or has it been a couple of weeks?

...

 Who knows. Time’s not really a part of his forté anymore. 

The point is, he’s kept his mouth shut for the sake of Daryl Dixon’s feelings. He’d asked the archer why they couldn’t just come out with it, and the other man actually said that he believed his family would look down on him for it. Shun him, or something. Which is absolute _bullshit_.Paul see’s how much love Daryl’s little family has for him. His sexuality wouldn’t change that unconditional love- like,  _at all_. 

There’s also the fact that the women of Alexandria or Hilltop are always flirting with him. Now, Paul knows that Daryl is gay and that Daryl is his boyfriend, but ... the hunter just _let’s_ it happen. The only thing he does in defense is ignore them or just look over at Paul and watch his reaction. It’s frustrating, to say in the least. Also, forgive him if he sounds like a possessive asshole.  

The redneck also _never_ let’s Paul touch him in public. Not even little hand holds. Not even hugs or pats on the shoulder. It’s ridiculous. But Paul holds out because he loves him and respects him. That is the main reason why he _hasn’t_ broke after all of this.

But boy, is it getting difficult. 

The both of them are seated across from one another at Rick’s dinner table, now. The ringleader and Michonne are holding hands, sitting next to one another. Comfortable and smiling- making small, cute inside jokes. Picking at one another. It makes his chest ache a little. 

Daryl’s picking at his spaghetti, cornflower eyes darting between the couple and Paul himself. 

“So, how are things holding up in Hilltop?” Grimes suddenly asks, briefly looking from Michonne to talk before looking right back. 

Jesus wipes some sauce from the corner of his lips, clearing his throat. “With Negan gone, it’s much easier.” Pause. “Thank you for asking. How are thing’s here?”

Paul already knows, of course, but it’s small talk. Gotta fill this silence with something other than the  _clinks_ and _clacks_ of silverware. 

“Much better, now.” Pause. “With Negan gone,” he says, repeating Jesus’ earlier phrasing of words. Everyone but Daryl chuckles. The redneck is too busy stuffing his face and just listening. It’s endearing. 

Michonne suddenly says, “how are you and Alex?” and Paul’s heart sorta drops. Yes, it still hurts to think about.  

“It, uh,” he smiles morosely. “It didn’t work out between us.”

Awkward silence. Judith chooses that moment to coo and giggle. Daryl’s staring at him. Michonne and Rick look at one another, quiet. 

Dear Lord, he hates situations like this.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Michonne says, sincerely. “I wouldn’t have said anything-”

“It’s okay,” he interrupts. “I’ve moved on.” _Please, for the love of God, change the topic_. 

And she does. thankfully. But he quickly regrets being thankful.

“How’s Carol?” Her question is aimed at Daryl. “You saw her at the Kingdom, right?” 

“Yeah,” the man rasps, playing with some stray noodles on his plate. “She’s alright.”

“You two hook up, yet?” Rick suddenly quips. Paul’s cheeks heat up in silent jealousy. It’s absolutely childish, and he knows that, but he can’t help it. 

“Uh, no,” Daryl replies. That warms his face even more. “Not yet.”

 _Breathe_. 

“Why not?”

 _Stay calm, Rovia._  

“There ain’t no time for any relationship.” He’s not even looking at Paul when he says this, and he even looks _sincere_ when those words fly out of his mouth. 

And _that_ is what sets Paul off. “Sorry, I just remembered that I had to do something,” he manages, dropping his silverware and leaving the table, chair scraping harshly against the floor. His abrupt anger is very noticeable, especially to the hunter. He doesn’t even push in his chair, which must look appalling compared to his usual polite and kind behavior. The door even slams shut behind him when he leaves.   

He’s about half-way down the road when the hunter reaches him, grabbing at his white shirt sleeve. “Don’t,” he hisses, spinning to face the taller man. Daryl’s looking down at the road, face flushed in embarrassment, gripping the end of his sleeve like a life-line.  

“M’sorry,” he apologizes. 

Paul groans in exasperation, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “I know, and _I’m_ sorry for reacting like that,” he says, deflating at the ‘kicked-puppy’ look the other is giving him. “It’s just frustrating.”

“M’sorry.”

They stand like that for a bit, the archer staring at the ground and Paul staring at said archer. He catches Rick and Michonne in the background and a few other Alexandrians wondering about, pretending not to notice them. The sun is setting, now, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange, a blush of purple accentuating the beauty of it. Crickets chirp and toads croak from different locations inside and outside of the small town. Some leaves have fallen from the trees, the green turning into fiery oranges and reds. It’s chilly enough for their breath to be seen, and the small clouds mingle with one another.   

“Are you embarrassed of me?” Paul murmurs, honestly scared of what the answer might be. It’s what he’s been wondering for the past week.  

“No.” Daryl tightens his grip. “I ain’t.”

“Then prove it.” Pause. “Prove it to me, please.” 

Nothing. 

His lips press into a thin line, and he pulls away, walking fast in the opposite direction. His eyes are burning, and he feels stupid. And a bit dramatic. But he really does care about the other man. He care _so much_  and he- he’s suddenly spun around and his lips meet Daryl’s. His eyes widen and then close, a groan spilling past his lips and into the older man’s mouth. He has to lean up a bit to get the angle that he wants, but it’s worth it. Daryl’s hands are gripping his shoulders, and his own hands are locked on the redneck’s vest. His mouth opens and Daryl slips him some _tongue, and shit everyone can see this-_

He pulls back, out of breath. Smiling. The other man’s cheeks are red, and he’s looking him in the eyes. He isn’t hiding behind his bangs, and _everyone saw that_. 

“We good?” Daryl mutters. 

Paul actually laughs and nods. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Their lips meet in another kiss, and he thinks he hears Rick spluttering and Michonne cackling and clapping. 

**

Needless to say, the sex is great that night.   


End file.
